Stuck Like Glue
by ournoisyhearts
Summary: AU. Blaine has yet to decide if being thrown together with Sebastian as a roommate is either a curse or a blessing. Most days, he's leaning towards the former. Written for Day 3 of Seblaine Week.


**notes; **written for day three of seblaine week, which was the prompt "living together." very much AU.

* * *

**stuck like glue**

* * *

It's a bit random, how they end up living together.

Blaine has been sharing an apartment with Nick for two years, and just as the time to renew their contract comes up, Nick tells him that he's moving in with his long-time boyfriend Jeff, so hopefully a month is enough time for Blaine to get his living arrangements in order. It's an absolute pain, though Blaine is happy for his friends—of course he is. He just really doesn't need the added stress of roommate-hunting as the semester winds down and finals are rapidly approaching.

He tries the standard newspaper-advertisement, interview-process at first, but that results in far too many strange underclassmen with a strong reliance on pounding rap music and marijuana. And sure, it's college, and that sort of thing is normal—but Blaine is a senior, scrambling to tie up loose ends and finish out school on a high note. His partying days are in the past (or at least, he likes to think they are).

So he scraps the public advertisement idea and turns to the people he knows, and eventually, he winds up with Sebastian Smythe.

He's the friend of a friend, a senior at NYU like Blaine, and is apparently even from Ohio like himself. It sounds perfect, in theory. Both of them are from similar places, going through similar transitions in their lives, so rooming together should work out fantastically, so long as Sebastian does his own dishes and keeps his music turned down at two o'clock in the morning.

While Sebastian might earn a passing grade in these areas, he does, unfortunately, have his annoying quirks.

The first and foremost being that he wakes up at the ass-crack of dawn every single day, without fail, whether it be during the week or on the weekends. He then proceeds to bustle around in the kitchen for a half hour (and rather noisily, Blaine might add), seemingly oblivious to the fact that Blaine has his head buried under the pillow a few feet down the hall. Sebastian is begrudgingly dedicated to his workout regimen, thus leading him to stumble his way out the door a short while after he wakes up, and if Blaine isn't awake by then, he surely is when Sebastian returns in a mess of shuffling limbs and labored breaths. If Sebastian is feeling particularly energetic, sometimes he'll even storm into Blaine's bedroom and smother him with his sweaty limbs and musky scent, and Blaine will grumble and moan as his roommate drags him out of bed, already chattering away.

And that isn't even all of it.

Sebastian is also furiously opposed to the concept of clothing. He sleeps shirtless. He cooks shirtless. He studies shirtless. He is completely unashamed to walk buck-naked from the bathroom back to his bedroom, and Blaine has ended up choking on his food one too many times thanks to the sight of Sebastian's bare ass wandering down the hall. He only seems amused whenever Blaine huffs at him to _put on a shirt, for the love of God,_ and takes great pride in the fact that his toned chest always turns Blaine into a bumbling mess.

(His roommate is attractive, okay? Sue him.)

It's as if Sebastian does it just because he _knows_ it gets to Blaine. He seems to do everything simply to bother Blaine, come to think of it. The obnoxious morning routines. The nudity. He will drink the last of the orange juice—_Blaine's _orange juice, there's a label—and then fail to replace it. Or he'll leave his textbooks strewn across the coffee table in the living room so that Blaine has nowhere to prop his feet up after a long day. He leaves a trail of dirty clothes behind whenever he heads out to do laundry, and there is a pile of dirty sneakers that has become a permanent fixture in their otherwise spotless front entryway.

But for all of his irritating habits, Sebastian is surprisingly easy to get along with. Whenever he isn't trying to intentionally get on Blaine's nerves, he is polite and charming, and the banter flows back and forth between them quite easily. Blaine puts up with Sebastian's incessant innuendos, while Sebastian coaches Blaine through his admittedly overly-sensitized reactions to things. They often reminisce about life back in Ohio, and Blaine even brings Sebastian home for Christmas that first year, even though they're both twenty-two and far too old to be traveling back to visit their parents.

(Well, Blaine's parents; Sebastian's parents kicked him out at the end of his senior year, which is what led him to New York, but you didn't hear that from Blaine.)

It's still surprising, though, and mildly infuriating, when Sebastian begins to take up refuge at the coffeehouse where Blaine works after about six months of them living together. As if it's not enough that they already live together nearly 24/7, Sebastian appears to have decided that it only makes sense to set up his books at a corner table in _Bean Around the World _and unapologetically flirt with the other baristas that are working Blaine's shift. And whenever Blaine grumbles at him as he orders his usual Espresso, Sebastian will merely flutter his eyelashes or toss Blaine a short wink, declaring that _it isn't his fault this place has some of the best Espresso around._

To which Blaine will reply, _you know, if you just spent the six grand on one of these fancy machines, you could have this stuff all the time at home, free of charge._

And Sebastian's grin will soften, his eyes sparkling. _You sure you want to sign your name on another bill next to mine, Anderson?_

Blaine will simply snort before turning away to make Sebastian's coffee.

* * *

It does get to be too much, sometimes.

On a Tuesday a few months later, Blaine is having a particularly awful day. He'd woken up at 4:45 to the sound of the front door slamming shut, and things that had grown progressively worse from there. Sebastian had eaten the rest of the Corn Flakes, forcing Blaine to head off to his early class without breakfast, and then he'd arrived to realize he'd left his notes at home. As if that weren't enough, one of his co-workers had called in sick, leaving him with a double shift as soon as class got out, and now there is a soy milk stain on his apron, a few biscotti crumbs littered in his hair (_don't _ask), and his movements are becoming steadily more lethargic as he does his best to make the correct drink orders without being yelled at by yet another customer for using 2% instead of skim milk.

And then Sebastian waltzes in with a shit-eating grin on his face, and something inside of Blaine snaps.

"No," he growls. "No, no, no, I cannot deal with anymore of you today. Please, go somewhere else. I'll see you as it is in a few hours. Just _leave._"

Sebastian looks taken aback, but he doesn't heed the advice. Instead, he decides to step all the way up to the counter and lean right into Blaine's space, his elbows resting on the surface in between them. "Aw, pumpkin, are you having a bad day?"

"You ate my Corn Flakes," Blaine hisses, "and you wake up every morning before the sun even rises, without fail. And then you have the audacity to show up _here, _where I work, as if I don't put up with you enough already, and you leave such a mess at home that I forget where I put my notes for my classes, and I can't deal with it anymore!"

His outburst is punctuated by a harsh exhale as he shuffles back a step from the counter and folds his arms over his chest, mouth pressed into a tight line. Sebastian, the bastard, hardly seems to react—he merely arches an eyebrow and gives Blaine a tiny, amused quirk of his lips before drawling, "I'll take my usual Espresso, please."

"Do you not understand the words _fuck off?_" Blaine spits, but he is already punching the order into the cash register and moving aside to fetch the drink, his lungs still heaving from his previous rant. "I honestly hate you. So much."

"Now, now, if that were the case, we wouldn't make such fabulous roommates, would we?" Sebastian asks, grinning at Blaine across the top of the Espresso machine. "Don't even deny it, I know you just love living with me. Even if I drive you up the wall sometimes.

"More like all of the time," Blaine mutters, finishing with the beverage and passing the cup across the counter to Sebastian. "Look, it's just been a really shitty day. Could you please go buy some more cereal on your way home?"

The sudden exhaustion in his tone seems to permeate, because Sebastian's features are then shifting, his expression growing gentler. Blaine's too tired to read much into it.

"Yeah," his roommate agrees quietly, tipping his head in acknowledgement. "I can do that. I'll leave the door unlocked, okay?"

Blaine just hums, dropping his head down into his arms and resting his cheek against the cool surface of the counter. "Enjoy your drink," he mumbles.

* * *

He stays to close up shop at ten, and doesn't make it back to the apartment until closer to eleven, at which point he is basically dead on his feet. The door is unlocked, just as Sebastian said it would be, and Blaine stumbles inside with one hand rubbing his eye and the other dumping his belongings inside the front hall, neatness be damned.

The only light in the apartment is coming from the television in the living room, and Blaine follows the source to find Sebastian sprawled across the sofa, his head conked out at an awkward angle against the back cushions as he reclines with his feet hooked over the armrest. Blaine is about to shake his head and leave his roommate to suffer through the night with a sore back when he spots the two boxes of brand-new Corn Flakes on the kitchen table in the opposite corner of the room, and next to it, a stack of Chinese take-out boxes that seem to have his name written all over them.

He quietly makes his way over and glances down at the leftover chow mein and sweet-and-sour pork in the boxes, then shoots a quick glimpse back over at Sebastian, who is still knocked out cold on the couch. For some reason, the gesture has crushed Blaine's irritation somewhat, and he scoops some of the food onto a clean plate and pops it into the microwave, quickly shoveling it down as he leans against the side of the counter in the kitchen and stares off absentmindedly at the cabinets across from him.

For all of his whining, maybe Sebastian isn't such a terrible roommate, after all.

* * *

"I can't believe you left me to sleep on the couch," Sebastian greets him the following morning, as Blaine is munching on his bowl of Corn Flakes from the sofa. His roommate has just burst through the door following his run, hands pulled over his head as he stretches out his joints and makes his way in Blaine's direction. Blaine just shrugs, swallowing another bite of the cereal in his mouth.

"You ate my Corn Flakes," he states.

"But I bought you more," Sebastian grumbles petulantly.

"_After _I went to eat them for breakfast, and found none," Blaine points out, waggling his spoon in Sebastian's direction. "But you did leave me Chinese, so, I guess all is forgiven. Now go change, I can literally smell you from here. You reek."

"It's all a part of my manly charm," Sebastian drawls, yanking out his earbuds and depositing his ipod onto the coffee table before carelessly climbing over Blaine's legs and taking over the rest of the couch, his sweaty torso falling across Blaine's lap. "C'mon, you know you like it."

"You do realize that I was this close to kicking you out yesterday, right?" Blaine asks weakly.

"No can do. We signed a contract," Sebastian responds, grinning smarmily up at him. His tousled hair falls in a damp mop across his forehead, and Blaine is brushing it out of his eyes without even thinking about it, his fingers getting caught in the tangled strands.

"I thought I reeked," Sebastian says against his stomach, and the sound is muffled as his breath ghosts out across Blaine's t-shirt.

"And now I do, too," Blaine replies, slipping his fingers out of Sebastian's hair and allowing them to hang limply at his own side. "Thanks a lot."

"Well, it's not my fault you decided to touch me," Sebastian declares.

"You laid down on top of me. What was I _supposed _to do?"

Sebastian laughs, the sound reverberating through his chest as he clambers off of the couch and up to his feet, ungracefully sniffing at his armpits. "It's okay to admit you like it, Blaine. I know practically all of your deepest, darkest secrets by now, anyway."

"Ass," Blaine huffs, picking up his now-empty bowl and making his way towards the kitchen. "Go shower. For the love of all that is holy."

"As you wish, darling!" Sebastian chirps, and Blaine flips him the bird from behind his retreating back.

* * *

"Please—"

"No."

"But, Blaine—"

"_No._"

Sebastian blinks over at him, his eyes impossibly wide, and Blaine stares back.

"How can you be so adamantly against a _puppy?_" Sebastian blurts.

"Because I'll be stuck taking care of it, knowing you and your utter lack of responsibility, and I really don't have the time for that right now."

A sigh falls from Sebastian's lips, and he frowns. "That wouldn't happen."

"Yes, it would."

"Have a little more faith in me than that!" Sebastian insists, folding his arms over his chest. "Granted, I'm not the most...conscientious person—"

"Understatement," Blaine mutters.

"—but I wouldn't bring it up if I wasn't willing! Besides, maybe a dog would be good for us. Or, y'know—you. You'd have a friend, besides me, that is."

Narrowing his eyes, Blaine says, "I have _friends._"

"And that's why you spend so many Friday nights holed up on the couch watching _One Tree Hill_ re-runs, right?"

Blaine sputters, to which Sebastian just smiles innocently.

"C'mon, Blaine. Just think about it, okay? We're lucky that our landlord even allows pets, so we might as well take advantage of the fact."

Blaine grumbles under his breath, but reluctantly agrees to consider it.

* * *

Signing the one-year renewal on their lease feels a lot like selling his soul away to the devil.

But when Sebastian just grins at him afterwards, handing him a beer and then falling down to the floor to tousle around with Lenny (their twelve-week-old Welsh Corgi—Sebastian had chosen the name), Blaine finds it hard to be irritated anymore.

* * *

After seventeen months, two weeks, and three days of living together, what happens next only seems natural enough.

Their names are already signed next to each other on _everything_—the rent, the water, the dog, hell, they even opened a shared bank account, just because it made things easier—so when Sebastian sits him down that evening and asks, _why aren't we boyfriends?, _Blaine can't even come up with an adequate answer.

Instead, he leans forward and crawls right into Sebastian's embrace, their lips meeting as Sebastian winds his arms around Blaine's middle and Blaine's hands latch onto the nape of Sebastian's neck. It isn't awkward, but it isn't frantic, either. It just feels right, like this is where they've been heading all along, even if Sebastian is crude and sarcastic and messy in all of the ways that Blaine hates.

(Or loves. It could go either way at this point.)


End file.
